


Outlaw

by whiskeydazed



Series: Like Lion Teeth [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Growing Up, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-25 22:39:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19755199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeydazed/pseuds/whiskeydazed
Summary: For nearly two decades, Jane grew up and ran with the Van der Linde Gang, escaping her fate with her own family. She grows up alongside Arthur, who has her back, and she has his. Time tests their wills and their loyalties, and as the era of the Wild West is tamed, they find they can only fight, and fighting is how they will go.Outlaws to the very end.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work I'm publishing on here oof, and my first story I'm unleashing to the wild. I worked really hard on the background to this story so I hope I can write it well !!! Enjoy < 3

"I told you not to double cross me, Morgan." The man hissed, his breath coming out in puffs of steam against the chilled morning air. Smoke still formed from the barrel of his revolver as he shoved it back into his holster, an eery stillness settling over the small town, even the morning birds refused to sing. The man's brown eyes lingered on the lifeless body before him for awhile. The dead man laid on his back, a bullet hole between his empty eyes. Bleeding still, and pooling beneath his head as he laid in the mud. There was only a hint of remorse behind the killer's eyes, but remembering what had gotten the other killed in the first place brought about an icy cold. He snorted, turning to leave before he heard a sound, like something being knocked over. The man turned his head to the left slightly, listening intently; when he heard nothing, he decided to turn around. His dark eyes met those of the man he had killed, but... Younger? The same greenish blue eyes filled with a familiar spitefulness. It almost made him chuckle.

"You must be Arthur." He drawled, kinder to the boy than he had been to the now dead man, "Lyle's boy." The fact that he knew their names seemed to spook the kid, he took notice of how he swallowed, nervous, but still he stood tall. Unafraid.

"You killed him," The kid spoke back, as calmly as a young boy could, but there was still an audible shake to it that the man did not skip over, "you killed my daddy."

"Yes."

"Why?"

The man stared for a moment, thinking. His eyes looked over the boy, then back to the corpse. His dark eyes squinted, then blinked, returning his steely gaze to the child who stood, a determined expression to him. The man licked his rough lips before speaking, "listen, kid." His voice was rough, gravelly and scary. He approached Arthur, and the boy took a single step back, yet stood strong still. The man merely kneeled before him, so that they were eye level. Arthur could have punched him then. He wanted to. His small fists were balled up and ready, but something about the older man made him hesitate.

"That man right there," He pointed to the body of Lyle, eyes glazed over, but still staring right back at them. The way a dead body could stare, it made a wave of slight fear rush over Arthur, his legs felt numb. He'd never seen a dead body before, let alone his own father. "He was a snake." The man continued, bringing Arthur's attention back to him, "A snake and a coward, and in this world, in the outlaw life, there are no room for snakes or cowards. Now, your daddy knew this. He knew what he was gettin' into. And still, he put a knife into his brothers' backs. He put a knife in _my_ back. He suffered the consquences he knew would happen." The harshness of the man's words almost made Arthur flinch, he swallowed hard underneath the piercing stare, "if you got any amount of outlaw in your veins, Arthur, you listen to me good and clear.

"You don't be the man your daddy was."

The two stared at each other for a moment, when the man felt his point was across, he stood, gave a nod to the boy, and turned back around, beginning to walk towards his hitched horse.

"Wait-!" Arthur called out, to which the man stopped, peering over his shoulder, "what- what's your name, mister?"

The man chuckled briefly, staring at his black boots, he shook his head, and peered out from under the brim of his black hat.

"Kilwinning."


	2. Daffodil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Son, are you just going to sit there and drool all day or are you going to go fetch Miss Jane's horse for her?" Dutch pulled him back to reality and his pale face went beet red. It earned a mean snicker from Jane, Arthur decided then and there that he didn't like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Rewritten; 11.10.19**

"What the hell you doin' up here, Morgan?" Kilwinning asked, quite frustrated as he made his way up a hill covered in tangling brush and old branches.

Morgan sat on a rock at the top of the hill, staring out at the bayou in front of them, a hard look to his usually blank eyes. His hat was off, resting on the ground before him, his short strawberry blonde hair sweaty and flat on his head.

"I'm thinkin'." Morgan quietly responded, without a glance to the other man. Kilwinning snorted, leaning himself against one of the surrounding trees, taking his old and battered hat off and wiping at the sweat that had gathered on his forehead.

"While I'm aware thinkin's quite a feat for you, Morgan, we really need to get a move on here." Kilwinning spoke as he brushed the dust off of his hat, putting it back on his head firmly, "we got our wagon stuck in the mud, our horses stressed, and a few tag-along gators. You can think later." He turned around, taking a few steps down the hill, but he didn't hear a second set of footsteps following. He groaned loudly as he turned around and started marching back up, "What the hell you even thinkin' 'bout anyway?"

Morgan finally turned his head to look at him, then lifted a newly opened envelope, waving it slightly before resting his arm back down on his knee. Kilwinning knitted his brows together, shaking his head in confusion.

"When'd you even get a letter?"

"When we was up in Breaux Bridge. Didn't bother to read it 'til now."

"You can read?"

"Shut the hell up, Kilwinnin'." The two men shared a short chuckle, Kilwinning got closer to Morgan, who made room for him to sit on the rock.

"So, what's it say?" He asked, looking at the other.

"Got a new son." Morgan spoke briefly and Kilwinning stared at him harshly.

" _What?!_ A third? God dammit Morgan we really don't got the time-"

"- _Actually_.. He's the fourth."

"That's even worse. Where did you even hook up with another woman?"

"Back up in Ohio."

"That just tells me we been stickin' in one place for far too long. C'mon we really gotta go, Marston's probably losing his mind by now." Kilwinning stood back up, pulling Morgan by his sleeve to stand with him. He barely had time to scoop his hat back up, hastily planting it back on his head. The two made their way back down the hill towards their wagon.

~*~

**Jul. 18th, 1880**.

"You always say no, daddy." Jane muttered under her breath as she looked from the older man to her brothers who sat in the living room, excitedly cleaning their weapons and hastily strapping their gunbelts to their waists and bandoliers to their chests. Jane couldn't help but think the boys were like yearling wolves, tripping over their tails and lanky legs, dumb with the thought of a prize. Her daddy rested a calloused hand on her shoulder, and gave her a gentle squeeze, a kind smile on his face.

"You just need a little more practice is all, Jane." He reassured her, their eyes locking for a few seconds before he turned away, reaching for his old rifle, "a few more bullseyes' an' you'll be out runnin' with us. I promise, my lil' lady." He hoisted the rifle's strap around his shoulder, his bandoliers full with so many rounds he jingled.

"I've practiced a helluva lot more than Everett." Jane huffed, leaning against the hallway wall, her brothers had gone outside now, all of them getting their horses ready, saddlebags emptied for new loot.

"Yes, well Everett has been shootin' guns long before you was born." He admired his sons through the window, a proud glint in his eyes.

"And I've hit more bottles an' bullseyes than Kit." She felt herself glaring, her fingers angrily fiddling with her blue skirt.

"Now, Jane." She could feel his gaze on her, the warning in his voice.

"Jamison hasn't even practiced all that much."

"Jane, I understand yer disappointed, and I know you've been practicin' and writin' strategies in yer journals. I'm sure you've thought of a solution to every possible situation," He explained, "but now just ain't yer time to shine. When it is, you'll glow brighter than yer brothers." He put a finger under her chin, lifting her head up so they eyed each other, and he grinned happily, "I know you will."

He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, informing her that her 'caretakers' would be there shortly, so she'd better be on her best behaviour, and everything else a worried father might tell his only daughter. He even left her a note telling her about the people she'd be staying with. Different names and faces each and every time. It frustrated her almost as much as not being allowed to go with her family on 'jobs'. She'd been in on the secret for as long as she could remember, been learning to protect herself since her momma had died, working harder everyday to prove herself. But still, she wasn't allowed to so much as stay home by herself. She still needed a glorified babysitter with a shady side.

Irritated, she kicked her knapsack across the floor, crying in pain when she'd accidentally hit her toe on the corner of a hardcover book that was in said snapsack, "why were you there?!" She cursed at the hidden book, rubbing her toe awkwardly. When she had calmed herself, she quickly fixed up her outfit, the same blue skirt and a pretty white blouse with a butterfly pattern, and a black leather belt with a shiny gold buckle. She tied her hair into a single braid, a fast glance in the mirror told her she looked presentable enough. She scooped up her knapsack, and made her way out the front door and over to the paddock, thankful to find her brothers had thought to get her beloved mare ready.

Her horse's name was Sesame, a middle-aged mare, though bold and a little carefree like a yearling. She was a beautiful American Standardbred, a palomino pinto with a nicely kept mane and tail from how much time Jane had spent with her. She was tall and elegant, definitely pricey. Jane had gotten Sesame as a present from her father, a present bought with the money he made from his oddjobs, and while Jane was quite jealous of her brothers for not getting guns, she quickly realized they were just as jealous of her for not getting a fancy horse.

Jane clicked her tongue as she approached the enclosed area, climbing on the lower board of the fence. Sesame whinnied as she trotted over, her ears perked up as Jane brought out a sugarcube for her and she quickly scooped it up with her lips. Jane smiled and stroked the mare's forehead, whispering sweet nothings and asking her opinion on how she looked. Of course, Sesame didn't care, only pushed her nose into Jane's skirt and knapsack, looking for more treats. Jane giggled, pushing the mare's giant head away.

She heard the sound of heavy hooves thudding against the ground, and the sound of old squeaking wagon wheels. Turning her eyes to the horizon, she saw the men her daddy had sent to care for her and she sighed deeply, climbing down from the fence to greet the strangers.

~*~

Arthur grumbled a few curses to himself, shoving his hat onto his sweaty head, then rolling his dirty sleeves up, unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He was hot, and even more sour than he was when he woke up. He didn't even know what the hell they were doing, he was pretty sure they were supposed to be going West, but instead it felt like they were going everywhere but West. Miss Grimshaw sat across from him, sewing up a hole in one of Dutch's many dress shirts, she only gave him a bitter and joyless, yet slightly amused chuckle. It didn't do anything to lighten his mood, so instead he scowled at her.

The ride was mostly silent, save for the few words passed between Dutch and Hosea and of course one of the many complaints Arthur had to make. When the wagon had slowly drifted to a halt, Arthur lifted himself to his knees to peek out over the drivers seat. Dutch had gotten down, giving his most charming greeting to a girl. Arthur was confused by the sight before him. 

"An inn?" He spoke flatly, glancing up at Hosea.

"It's not an inn, Arthur, but no, it's not about that." The older replied, not returning his gaze, "Dutch and I were asked by an old friend to watch his daughter while he and his sons go out for awhile." 

"Who were you asked by?" Arthur asked.

"An old friend." Hosea looked down at him, the look on Arthur's face was priceless to him as he laughed quietly.

Arthur watched curiously as Dutch shook hands with the young girl, perhaps around his age, a big smile on his face as he took her bag from her and lead her to the wagon.

"Dear Miss Jane, this is my little 'family'." Dutch introduced the girl as they got closer, Hosea smiled and Miss Grimshaw and Arthur stared. The girl- _Jane_ \- only stared back while Dutch went on to inform her of their names and where they would be going and whatnot. He noticed Jane had opened her mouth, but he was so locked in his challenging death stare, he didn't recognize at all what was spoken.

"Son, are you just going to sit there and drool all day or are you going to go fetch Miss Jane's horse for her?" Dutch pulled him back to reality and his pale face went beet red. It earned a mean snicker from Jane, Arthur decided then and there that he didn't like her.

" _Fine_." He hissed, pushing himself to his feet and jumping out of the wagon, the two teenagers staring at each other as he walked passed. He made his way towards the mare, all saddled up and pretty, opening the gate and going in to grab her by the reigns. If only that girl had bothered to tell him the old bag of a mare was as miserable as she looked.

As Arthur had grabbed her reigns and turned his back, the mare gave a mean cry, rearing up so fast he damn near dislocated his shoulder as he soared up with her. He screamed briefly, but whether it was from pain or fear of what had just happened, he wasn't sure, but he did know he landed on the ground hard, the wind knocked entirely out of him.

He laid there, hating his life and wondering where he had ever gone so wrong to end up like this. He looked over to see the horse trotting to the other side of the paddock, her tail raised high like she was proud of what she had done. 

Pure spite made Arthur get back up and chase the horse again. When he had finally gotten a hold of the reigns again, a small glimmer of pride sparked in his chest. The mare gave him a look and he knew there was hell to pay for his accomplishment. She made a sharp turn and galloped away, throwing him face first onto the ground and leaving him in the dust. Arthur stayed there for a few more seconds before propping himself up onto his elbows, glaring as Hosea ran his way over to get the horse for him, a hearty grin on his face along with the sound of Dutch's laughter.

Dutch helped Arthur get up off of the ground, much to his dismay, "Thanks." He grumbled shortly, brushing the dirt from his clothes and spitting out grass from his mouth. Dutch clapped his hand onto Arthur's back, continuing to chuckle, his face red and his eyes almost teary from how hard he'd been laughing. Arthur felt even more embarrassed, he pushed Dutch away and marched back towards the wagon, Dutch close in tow.

Hosea had gotten the mare under control and had her saddle off and in the wagon already, he had her tied to the back so she could walk along with then comfortably. He and Arthur shared a glance, Hosea smiled at him, briefly looking up at Jane (who had made herself comfortable next to his spot) then back at him in a sly manner. Arthur gave him a disgusted look in return, climbing back into the wagon and sitting beside the girl. She promptly put her knapsack between them and wrapped her arms around her legs. Arthur stared at her in an offended way, even though he had probably decided he hated her before she decided she hated him. He looked to Miss Grimshaw, hoping she had seen the act, but instead the older woman gave him a look that basically said 'be nice.' He inwardly groaned.

"...M' names' Arthur." He forced out in a relatively non-threatening tone. Jane gave him a knowing stare in return.

"I know. Dutch told me, while you was starin' at me, lost in yer fantasies, actually." She said, matter-of-factly. Arthur had to bite the inside of his cheek not to say something awful in return. He looked at Miss Grimshaw with a wide-eyed stare as if to say 'you see?'. The woman gave him a smirk.

"Looks like you've met your match, Arthur." She teased, and Arthur threw his head back into the wall of the wagon.

This was going to be a long ride, he thought.


End file.
